As the Boz-mobile pulled up at Causeway Stadium in Cinderford, there was a pang of nostalgia for our one time temporary home just across the border in Gloucestershire.

Not much had changed in the three years since Penydarren Park had been transformed into the Welsh Wembley.

On the Council Estate near the entrance to the Stadium, the same local athletes were leaning on their fences, blowing smoke through their webbed fingers, whilst being clad in their Rab C Nesbitt Sunday best string vests, as were evident three years ago.

The sound of 'dualling banjos' drifting lightly on the late Summer Breeze.

Now on paper, with Merthyr Third in the table and Cinderford Rock bottom - it should have been a banker away win.

But the Foresters Management had different ideas.

Rock bottom being the operative word, as the 'Ass'istant Manager had a strange habit of curling up the back of his shirt and revealing the worst case of builders cleavage imaginable to the crowd sat in our stand.

It might work if you look like Britney Spears but not if you are built more like Harambe the Gorilla from 'Cinderfordcinatti' Zoo.

It nearly made me regurgitate my chips- it must have unnerved our players too, as inside the first twenty minutes Garner came out and felled one of the Foresters for a penalty kick.

Their 9 was a big lump and I am sure I heard the sound of 'Timbbbber' from Forest Fred behind the shed.

He promptly dusted himself down and slotted the penalty passed the Merthyr keeper for an early lead.

The young Cinderford side looked more shocked than an Aston Villa striker, that they had taken the lead and looked towards the bench for guidance.

Could they afford to win the game and risk ANOTHER bank busting promotion or did they pretend like the United Kingdom to put a decent act out for Eurovision?

Merthyr were stung by the goal and for the next remaining 25 or so minutes pushed hard to get back into the game.

First, they equalised from a free-kick from an 'n-arrow' angle from the free- scoring Traylor with an assist from their keeper, Fletcher who just stood all a 'quiver'ing.

Then a few minutes later, the ball landed under the feet of the Prossiah, who turned and lashed the ball into the corner of the net for 2-1.

It is fortunate that he has 'Holy' Feet in more ways than one, as any normal player would not have got the ball out in that way.

Half-time came at the wrong time for the Away side, as Merthyr Town were pressing hard for a third, which would have put the game to bed.

In the interval, the tyre swings were smashed as the Cirencester Management must have 'Gone Ape' on the Foresters, with the incandescent Manager Chris and his simian sidekick giving his side 'Third Degree' Burns, hollering loudly at his players, as he threw away his Ruardean Horlicks and his 12 Bore 'kids' came out fighting.

Now historically, Cinderford men have been known for slaughtering Frenchmen and Bears but today it was the turn of Merthyr Town to be Martyred.

The change in tactics from having 11 men behind the ball to a mere 10 men, reaped dividends, as the newly freed Jack Camm in midfield took inspiration from the Ray Parlour Hair he had purchased on e-Bay and started spreading the ball about on the 'Pritch' Perfect pitch.

Suddenly, the youngsters were given the freedom of the Forest of Dean Clarke, and they started to believe in themselves, as Cinderford let loose the dog of 'Waugh'.

The turning point in the match, came when referee Uncle Festa from the Addams Family, allowed a controversial goal to stand for what was a clear foul on Goalie Garner.

Bert Trautmann sat in the stand next to me complained that it was nothing compared to what happened to him in the FA Cup Final but even so the Manager of the Cinderford KFC admitted it was a fowl.

If Garner and I were left seeing football stars, it was poor Manager Gavin Williams who saw red and had to spend the rest of the game behind the shed with Forest Fred.

Up front, the substitute (14) who looked like a cross between Pharrell Williams and Marcus Gayle was so 'happy' to use his pace and trickery against our slow moving defence and the Cinderford fans behind me were busy 'clapping along' to his tune, as they sensed their second win of the season was on the cards.

And what a goal to win it with a super strike from yet another youthful substitution from midfielder Ben who beat Glyn Garner from thirty yards out all 'hands' down with a once in a career strike that was a deserved match winner.

The game then deteriorated into a farce when the referee with the lightbulb in his mouth, decided to show more cards than a careless poker player , sending off their 9 for a minor infraction, booked poor 'Andy Coleford' instead of Keyon Refell in a case of mistaken identity in a match that didn't have one 'Cin'ical challenge.

With a 3-2 win - Cinders had gone to the ball, whilst our coach had turned back into a pumpkin somewhere after midnight and was stuck somewhere on the M42.

Beaten by hard luck or hard shoulders....it didn't really matters ....it was three points dropped, which felt more like the outcome of a relegation six pointer than a championship challenge.

Overall, it was a bad day at the office with a team beaten tactically by a young naive Cinderford, on a narrow sloping pitch not suited for the pace of our wingers.

The journey home was one of subdued silence, as we suffered more bends than Jacques Cousteau.

SuperGav will have to lift his side -as I had to lift the passengers in my soon to be departing car.

I wonder does his management touchline ban include playing in the centre circle?